


Not Your Uncle

by UberDuper



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Uncle-Niece Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UberDuper/pseuds/UberDuper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is your child.” Saizo stated bluntly. Azama nodded.</p>
<p>“Astute observation. It looks like all of your creepy stalker tendencies haven't gone to waste, hmm?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Uncle

**Author's Note:**

> I liked that Saizo seemed more concerned about Mitama's well-being in her Paralogue than Azama did, and this is my explanation why,

“Ah, Saizo!” The redheaded ninja's gaze snapped up, finding the clod known as Azama standing above him, that typical irritating smile on his face. How Lady Hinoka put up with him was unfathomable. In his arms was a small bundle that seemed to inflate and deflate in a regular rhythm. “I'm glad that I finally found you!”

“What could you possibly want from me?” Saizo asked, polishing one of his shuriken with a tiny cloth. His good eye returned to his weapon, already uninterested in anything the sharp-tongued monk had to say to him.

“Well, you see... I had some very monk-ly duties to attend to, so I needed your assistance with this.” Before the ninja could protest, the bundle was shoved into his arms, causing it to stir before settling. Saizo looked down. The sleeping face of a child looked back up at him.

“This is your child.” Saizo stated bluntly. Azama nodded.

“Astute observation. It looks like all of your creepy stalker tendencies haven't gone to waste, hmm?” The monk chuckled, adjusting his robe. Saizo's eye twitched. He really didn't have time for this.

“I am not going to hold it.” Saizo attempted to push the baby back into Azama's grip, but the monk took a step back, and then another when Saizo stood up to pursue him.

“Goodness! For a ninja, you're rather bull-headed.” Azama simply smiled at Saizo's irritated growl. “Oh, and _she_ has a name. Mitama, just in case you have space in that thick skull of yours.” He shrugged, once more dodging to the side as Saizo attempted to return the bundle.

“I am not watching your child, imbecile.” Saizo spat. “If you are so inclined to neglect, have your wife hold her. Not me.”

“About that...” Azama's smile fell, and a pained expression painted his face as he ducked away from Saizo's careful lunge. “You see... Rinkah's not in the best of moods, being the devote woman that she is, and isn't exactly too keen on dealing with the child right now... since we've, y'know, been tending to her for the past four nights... Plus, I promised her a break...”

“Perhaps the two of you should have considered the energy investment before you recklessly procreated.” Saizo growled, tensing up as the bundle called Mitama squirmed in his grasp. He instinctively pulled it to his chest, causing her to settle against him. Azama's infuriatingly placid smile returned as he continued his retreat.

“See, you're a natural!” And before Saizo could get another word off, Azama was gone.

“...” The ninja stared down at the bundle in his hands. What was he to do with a child?...

* * *

 

“...” Saizo glanced around at the area, a swirling portal behind him. He and Rinkah stood in a grassy area, latticed with trickling streams and dotted with green trees. A few houses stood on the islands created by the criss-crossing rivers, one large one in particular standing out to him. “...This is where Mitama resides?”

“That's right.” Rinkah snorted, easily hefting the bag that contained the supplies for her daughter in it over her shoulder. Saizo, too, held a bag, though smaller and filled with something other than basic supplies.

“I fail to understand why I have to come along.” Saizo sighed, adjusting his grip on the bag. Azama had cheerfully stuffed it into his grasp along with the order that he had to go check on some of the kids with Rinkah.

“Because the others are in a war council meeting and Ryoma chose you specifically to come.” Rinkah replied, pursing her lips. Saizo frowned, knowing damn well about the order from Ryoma. He had nothing more to say, so he kept his lips sealed, something Rinkah was apparently fine with.

The trek to the large house didn't take long, and soon, Rinkah was banging a fist on the front door. The pair waited for a moment, a bird flying overhead, before Rinkah slammed her fist into the door again.

“Mitama? You there? Mother's here!” A quiet pattering sounded behind the door, and as the pattering turned into shuffling, Saizo frowned. Was this huge house... really for this small kid alone? Surely there was somebody else in there with her.

“Mitama is here also.” A muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door. After another quiet moment, a loud clack sounded from the other side, and Saizo had to take a step back to avoid getting hit by the door, another strike against the architect. Who the hell makes an outward swinging front door?

Before them stood a face both familiar and not. A small shock of white hair atop a head that came up to no taller than Saizo's waist was the first thing the ninja saw. Her eyes were half-lidded, still evidently heavy with sleep, and the fist she brought up to rub them with unintentionally emphasized that. Rinkah set the bag down and grabbed Mitama under the arms, hefting her up and placing Mitama on her hip.

“You've gotten big.” She remarked, ruffling the young girl's hair. “How're you doing?”

“I'm sleepy, mama...” Mitama laid her head on Rinkah's shoulder, letting out a muffled yawn into Rinkah's arm. “Always sleepy...”

“Well try to stay awake while we're here.” Rinkah sighed, affectionately rubbing Mitama's back before passing her off to Saizo, much to his surprise. “Here, Saizo. Hold her.” Rinkah's stony gaze left Saizo no choice but to accept the half asleep child.

“...” He gritted his teeth, but remained silent as Rinkah once again lifted up the huge bag in her possession.

“Don't be like that.” Rinkah snorted, seeing the look on his face. “It's only for a moment while I put some of this stuff away. And look, she likes you.” At that, Saizo furrowed his brow, glancing down at the toddler held against his side. She had layered an arm over his shoulder, the hand of her other fisting in the material of his clothing. Her eyes had drifted further shut, and that familiar inhale and exhale of her chest against his arm became evident.

Saizo glanced up, finding that Rinkah had already escaped with the bag, leaving Mitama in his grasp. Perfect. With an annoyed grunt, he made his way over to a nearby staircase, closing the front door behind him, and plopped down, adjusting the girl in his grasp. Her eyes cracked open ever so slightly at the jostling, and Saizo found them locked with his.

“...Uncle Saizo.” She murmured, releasing the front of his shirt to point at the bag he was still holding. “What's that?”

“I am not your uncle.” Saizo snorted, dismissing the girl's claim. He was not related to her, and though she was not as irritating to be around as her father, he would still rather keep interactions to a minimum. It was for the best. “It's a gift from your father.” At that, Mitama perked up slightly. Not enough to lift her head from his shoulder, but her eyes opened up just enough that Saizo noticed the change.

“What is it?” She asked. Instead of choosing to admit that he didn't know – why would he do that – Saizo looped his arm around her so that he could use both hands to open said bag. Mitama snuggled into his unintentional grip, but kept her focus on the bag.

Within lay what appeared to be three or four pads of paper, a few brushes, two bottles of ink, and a scroll. Saizo removed the scroll and unrolled it, the pair inspecting it carefully. It listed a variety of basic kanji and katakana, as well as a tiny little note on the top in Azama's surprisingly decent handwriting.

' _Lovely Mitama,'_ It read, ' _I hope that that ox-head Saizo realizes that he must read you this message. Ah, if only I could have sent a more capable person to attend to you. Even that girl Mozu would have been more pleasant company!'_ Saizo frowned, already irritated that Azama was able to display his ineptitude without even being present. ' _But alas, let this letter be about you and not him. I have given this present to you so that you can learn to write as a way to pass the time. It must be awfully boring in a drab and dusty place such as that, especially without your father around to dote on you. But this will have to tide you over in between visits. Though I'm already sure that this will bring you much joy, so please enjoy it! -Azama'_

“What does it say?” Mitama whispered, reaching out to touch the yellowing paper.

“He says that it's for you.” Saizo replied, gingerly retrieving a brush from the bag. Mitama reached out, wrapping a tiny hand around the polished wood of the writing implement. “He wants you to learn how to read and write as a way of passing the time.

“Sounds...” The girl stopped to yawn, snuggling into Saizo's shoulder. “Sounds fun... I'll play with it... la... ter...” And just like that, she was out, snoring quietly against his shoulder. Saizo blinked a few times, letting out a sigh and adjusting her position so that she was more comfortable against him. The unmistakeable sound of footsteps caught Saizo's ears, and Rinkah rounded a corner with a now empty bag.

“Havin' fun?” She asked, cocking a brow at him.

“...” Saizo remained silent, even as Rinkah rolled her eyes and plodded over, pulling Mitama from his grasp and settling her against her shoulder.

“Well if you're that bored, feel free to head out.” Rinkah said, planting a light kiss on the top of Mitama's head, the girl stirring enough to make her murmur into Rinkah's tanned skin. “I just needed you here so that I wouldn't have to leave Mitama alone after dropping off the stuff. Go ahead and report back to Ryoma.”

“...feh.” Saizo crossed his arms, and Rinkah's lips twitched up in a smirk at him staying on the stairs. They were silent as Rinkah waited for elaboration, and Saizo reluctantly gave it to her a moment later. “I think I will stay, just to make sure that everything stays... tranquil. That _is_ my duty as a ninja and Lord Ryoma's retainer.”

“If you wanted to stay with the kid, all you had to do was say.” Rinkah remarked, and Saizo sputtered beneath his mask as she turned away to hum the snoozing toddler a lullaby.

* * *

 

The next time Saizo visited Mitama's Deeprealm, it was with Azama, a maid, and two bags full of books. Both of which were carried by Saizo and the maid.

“Ghh... what the hell did you put in these?” Saizo grunted, adjusting his bag of books.

“Books!” Azama cheerily responded. “I had speculated that me telling you 'carry this bag of books for me' before I gave the bag to you would mean that you understood the bag's contents, but perhaps that was too presumptuous of me?”

“I was referring to the type of book, you fool.” Saizo spat, once again hefting the bag to adjust his grip. “I wouldn't be surprised if there were rocks in here instead of books.”

“Oh that's very possible.” Azama mused, rubbing at his chin. “I made Setsuna pack the bags for me.” Saizo's eyes widened, and he tore the bag open, finding it full to the brim... with books. At the action, Azama laughed. “Kidding! I wouldn't let Setsuna of all people pack something for _my_ precious daughter.” Saizo glared, but remained silent, knowing that they would only talk themselves in circles if he enabled Azama to continue.

The rest of the trek to the house was silent, something Azama seemed more than glad for. He rapped three times on the door, and leaned towards it.

“Mitama? Knock knock, it's your father! I hope you're there!” The door swung open almost immediately, and both Azama and Saizo had to step back so it didn't hit them. One of Mitama's caretakers stood there, looking frazzled.

“Thank goodness you're here.” She sighed. “Mitama has been asking about you for the past few days, wondering when her mother was coming...” The caretaker glanced around, finding only the trio at the door. “...Is she here?”

“I'm afraid not.” Azama replied with a frown. “She'll have to settle for me today.” The monk sighed, slipping into the building past the caretaker. She offered to take the maid's bag of books, an offer that was gladly accepted, and proceeded to start hauling them off somewhere. Saizo, who also held a bag of books, followed her, figuring that she was taking them to a library or archive of some sort.

It was, in fact, a library. Upon the caretaker opening the door – and passing off the bag of books to Saizo to hold so she could do so – the ninja was met with the musty smell of books new and old, of old paper and new bindings. And of the smell of wet ink, originating from the girl sprawled out on the floor with a brush in her hand and a piece of paper before her, a small thing that seemed to be covered in delicate writing, most of it crossed out.

“Mitama,” The caretaker got her attention gently, prodding at her arm with her foot. “Some special people are here to see you.” At the comment, Mitama's head snapped up, tired eyes lighting up ever so slightly upon sighting Saizo. She pulled herself up off the ground, grabbing the paper, and plodded over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Hello, Uncle Saizo.” She murmured into his side.

“I'm not your uncle.” Saizo replied, placing a hand on her head anyway. Mitama pulled away slightly, pushing the piece of paper towards his face. Saizo had to lean back so the words wouldn't blur together, then squinting at the writing before him.

' _Yet more days alone.'_ It read. Saizo frowned. ' _Mother is late to visit / I feel my heart break._ '

“What is this?” He asked, voice stern. The smile that had begun to play on Mitama's lips fell away, and the ninja felt like somebody had just punched him in the gut.

“It's... a haiku.” Mitama murmured, pulling away from Saizo. “I wrote it because... mother hasn't come to visit me...” The girl let out a sigh that wavered as it came out, looking dejectedly at the floor. “I wanted her to sing the lullabies to me again. I can't do it... even though she taught me the words...” Mitama held the poem with both hands, the edges of the paper crinkling as she clenched them. “I thought... it was good...”

“Ghk-” Saizo made a choked off noise. He and Mitama were alone, the caretaker having left a few moments ago, and his worst nightmare was about to come true. A child was about to cry, and he was alone with them. Gods help him. “N-No, you misunderstand.” Saizo hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder, unsure of what else to do. “It was not bad. I'm just...” He trailed off.

“...It was good?” Mitama looked up at him, eyes wavering slightly with unshed tears. Saizo could only nod, which prompted the girl to wipe at her eyes. “Okay.” She sounded unconvinced, but what was he to do? “When is Mama coming?” That's when Saizo knew Mitama was upset. She'd taken to calling Rinkah 'mother', so when she fell back on 'mama', she wasn't happy.

“She's busy.” Was all Saizo could respond with, crossing his arms and looking away from the child below him. “War is a terrible thing.”

“Oh...” Mitama sniffled, and before Saizo could think of anything else to say, an irritatingly cheerful voice chimed in from behind him.

“There you are, Mitama! I've been looking all over for you!” At her father's voice, Mitama seemed to perk up. She let out an excited 'Father!' and scampered over to him. Saizo turned in time to see Azama kneel down, handing her a pad of paper and a new brush. The look on Azama's face grew just a little harsher upon noticing the wetness on Mitama's face.

“I hope you haven't made my daughter cry, Saizo.”

“Please.” Saizo snorted, narrowing his good eye at the monk. “It's not _my_ fault her mother hasn't come by.” At that, Azama merely frowned. It looked as though Azama was going to respond to the ninja's biting remark when a small hand shoved a piece of paper in Azama's face.

“Look what I wrote, Father.”

* * *

 

Saizo once again found himself in the house's library's doorway, arms crossed while Mitama, once again much older than he remembered. sat before him at the desk. Her back faced his front and she casually painted out what could only be yet another poem. She had yet to notice him.

“Uncle stands alone / Mother and Father absent / I am not surprised.” Mitama casually recited the haiku, though the fact that she continued to write once it was out in the air meant that she must have made it up on the spot. So she was aware of his presence.

“For the last time,” Saizo snorted, though his voice held a playful lilt that he didn't think possible of himself. Mitama apparently detected it too, because she chuckled under her breath. “I'm not your uncle.”

“Uncle he is not / Perhaps he brings offerings? / Where then, is my tithe?”

“There's fruit in the kitchen.” Saizo responded, arms crossed.

“Ah, nature's candy / Delectable, sugary / Prime for a goddess.” Mitama finished the final line of her writing with a tiny flourish, setting her brush down and turning to Saizo with an eyebrow raised. “Let me guess. War meeting?”

“No.” Saizo replied evenly. “They're off to battle. Lord Ryoma has requested reinforcements to meet up at Cheve.” Mitama looked confused.

“He didn't ask you to go?” The girl pursed her lips, noting Saizo's dismissive grunt. “Suspicions arise / Uncle was not selected? / Our Lord is not smart...”

“Please.” Saizo snorted. “I personally requested to stay behind.”

“Oh?” Mitama cocked her brow, though the edge of her mouth twitched up slightly.

“Of course. Many skilled soldiers were sent to help reinforce the Cheve rebellion. Without a strong presence back in Hoshido, we would be foolish to expect anything except for an attack.”

“And yet you're here, visiting me.” The girl smirked, turning back to her papers with a yawn. Saizo sputtered, but quickly worked to compose himself. “Alas, your niece is tired. Fruit sounds like a lovely pre-nap snack. Perhaps you would like to accompany me to the kitchen before you head back to Hoshido?” Mitama turned to look at Saizo from over her shoulder, a delicate smile on her face. How could he refuse that smile?

“I would be a fool to say no.” Saizo replied, waiting for her at the door. The girl carefully stacked her papers, delicately placed her brush on the desk, and plodded over to the door. Her hand slipped into Saizo's and she gently pulled him towards the kitchen. Were it anybody else... Saizo simply wouldn't have allowed it. But today, he'd make an exception.

* * *

 

“Goodness Azama, perhaps you should get some sleep some time soon.” Saizo, standing in the mess hall waiting for his food, glanced down at the monk. He seemed preoccupied, staring down at a letter in his hands with concern. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Ah, nothing quite that bad...” Azama sighed, turning to examine his healing staff. “It's just that... I got this letter saying that Mitama's village is under attack...” Saizo felt his throat clench up, and his chest tightened in horror.

“What?!” The surprised shout tore itself from his throat before he could think about it. “That's FAR worse! We've got to go rescue her!”

“Hmm...” Azama let out another sigh, ruffling the paper in front of him. “I suppose it _is_ worse, though everybody dies at some point, right?”

“You must be joking.” Saizo reached down, grabbing Azama's collar and hauling him to his feet. The monk shot him a look that Saizo returned with just as much venom. “This is your _daughter_ we're talking about! Your darling baby girl, remember? And we can make sure she's safe. Let's get to saving her, man!”

“...Gah, you're certainly impatient.” Azama shook his head, wrapping his hand around his staff. Saizo made sure he had his shuriken on him. The pair ran out of the mess hall to mount a quick group to assist Mitama, leaving behind a very confused Felicia in the mess hall.

 

 

 


End file.
